


I Can't Face This Life Alone

by Trixie85592



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Crowley has an anxiety attack due a flashback, Gen, Other, Panic Attacks, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), The Relationship between them can be romantic or platonic it's up to you, rated t for mild cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixie85592/pseuds/Trixie85592
Summary: Crowley is hit with a jarring flashback on his way to see Aziraphale.





	I Can't Face This Life Alone

**Author's Note:**

> "I Can't Face This Life Alone" Is a line from 'Save Me' by Queen.
> 
> Possible TW: Descriptions of an anxiety attack and mention of a flashback.

Crowley took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gripping the steering wheel of the stationary Bentley so tightly his knuckles turned white.  _ You’re fine. Nothing is wrong,  _ he desperately tried to bargain with himself. But logic wouldn’t make his feeling of all-consuming dread pass. He’d learned that centuries ago. 

“Shit,  _ shit! _ ” He said as he felt tears welling in his eyes, his chest constricting uncomfortably, and his palms becoming clammy. He pulled his sunglasses off and tossed them off to the side so he could dig the heels of his hands into his eyes. He hated crying. It was so damn  _ useless _ , especially then. Why did he have to cry when nothing bad had happened, when there was nothing to cry  _ for _ ? 

Minutes ago he had been driving his beloved car on his way to meet up with Aziraphale, listening to Queen’s  _ Save Me _ . Now he was sitting in his car, hyperventilating for absolutely nothing.  _ Oh, for Satan’s sake, I’ll have to come up with some excuse for Aziraphale now, won’t I? _ He gritted his teeth and let out growling sob, frustrated and angry.

The demon felt as if the car’s walls were closing in on him, the air was thick, and everything just felt  _ wrong. _ He curled in on himself, sliding his fingers through his hair and balling his fist, pulling harshly at it. The pain was enough to ground him sometimes and pull him back to the present. Crowley tried to focus on the music, the vibrations from the speakers, and the burning on his scalp. It just wasn’t enough. He was spiraling down the terrifyingly endless pit in his own mind. The feeling was all too familiar. It was as if he were falling from Heaven again and again; a never-ending cycle of fear, remorse, and pain.

Just as he started to let out another sob, he heard a gentle voice to his left. 

“Cr-Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, having just appeared in the passenger seat. His voice quivered slightly, surprised at the state he found his demon in. 

Crowley gasped and nearly jumped out of his skin. He pressed himself against the door, releasing his hair from the death grip and hugging himself tightly instead. His breaths were short, sharp, and gasping; his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest; tears were rolling down his cheek; his brain was foggy and he couldn’t think. He didn’t look at Aziraphale’s face. His eyes were instead focused on the buttons of the angel’s vest.

Aziraphale turned the car’s radio down and then reached toward Crowley, his hands stopping just before they could come to rest on the demon’s shoulders. 

“Crowley, can you hear me?” He tried to steady his voice and speak clearly. After a moment, he received a weak nod response. “Okay, listen to me. Can I touch your shoulders?” 

No response. 

“Crowley, dear?” 

Finally receiving another nod, he placed his hands firmly on Crowley’s shoulders. “Listen carefully. Look at me.” His yellow, reptilian eyes slowly raised to meet Aziraphale’s. “Good, good, you’re doing well!” He reassured him. “Now, try to copying my breathing, okay? Deep breath in, deep breath out.” The angel began to slowly and exaggeratedly breathe.

Crowley did his best to follow along, still gasping for air. He focused on the feeling of Aziraphale’s hands pressing on his shoulders, the scent of his cologne, the sound of his breathing, and the beautiful, pale blue color of his eyes. Eventually he was able to regulate his breathing and his arms relaxed their vice-like hold on his torso. He sniffled and looked down again, embarrassed that Aziraphale had to see him breaking down. He was supposed to be a tough and hardened being from Hell. 

“Thank you… I’m s-” His voice faltered as Aziraphale moved his hand from Crowley’s shoulder to his cheek, tenderly wiping away his tears with his thumb. 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me, Crowley. You have nothing to be sorry for,” The angel said softly, offering a reassuring smile. After a moment, his brow knitted together in concern. “Now… what’s the matter? What caused this?”

Crowley sighed, looking down at his still-trembling hands. “Honestly, I don’t really know… it just happens from time to time. I get these... flashbacks. It’s like I’m falling all over again.” He paused for a moment before looking back up at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale frowned in concern before his expression softened. “I’m so sorry you had to relive such an atrocious event, dear.”

Crowley mustered up a small, genuine smile. “Thank you for helping me, angel. You’re surprisingly good at grounding me.” Suddenly something occurred to him, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, his cheek pressing against Aziraphale’s warm hand that still rested upon his face. “How did you find me?’

Aziraphale shrugged a little and let out a breathy laugh. “I just got this feeling that something was wrong. You were late, and you’re never usually late for our meet-ups. But that irrelevant right now. I’m just relieved that you’re alright.”

“Thank you, again, Aziraphale. Really.” He lifted his arms and pulled Azirphale into a tight hug, closing his eyes and taking him in with every sense he could.

Aziraphale accepted the hug and turned his head to press a kiss against Crowley’s flushed cheek. “You need not thank me, darling.” 

The demon smiled a little wider, melting into Aziraphale. The day had definitely taken a turn for the better. 


End file.
